Friday, June 17, 2011


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I was born December 7, 185, in Tulsa, Oklahoma, at Saint Francis Hospital. My father gave me my first name, Miranda, naming me after a place in New Mexico. My mother gave me my middle name, Kyle, saying she liked it because of its Irish sound.

My father was a salesman who greatly enjoyed the things of the world. My mother was a loving mother who worked when she was told to do so, and took care of my brother and me.

I lived the first four years of my life in Prue, Oklahoma. My younger brother, who was born just fifteen months after me, made the remaining two years and ten months a living nightmare. For example, one early Christmas morning I jumped out of bed eager to see what gifts Santa had left me the night before; only to find that a small monster had crept in just after Santa Clause had left and mangled all the gift wrappings, tearing them to shreds.

My father was a salesman who greatly enjoyed the things of the world. My mother was a loving mother who worked when she was told to do so, and took care of my brother and me at home when she was told she could no longer go to work.

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When I was five years old we moved to an old racehorse farm west of Mannford, Oklahoma. There was one huge barn with two separate sides and twenty horse stalls total. Behind the barn there was a horse walker, a device made to exercise horses without doing much itself, and about a hundred feet away from the walker was a round pen and also an arena. There was even an average size dirt racetrack in a small pasture to the south side of the house. I used to take my horse, Drifter, on this racetrack and we would play all day. When I would get tired of riding him, or just thirsty, I would stop, wherever I was in the pasture, get off of Drifter and walk to the house. Fifteen or twenty minutes later I would go back out to the pasture and there Drifter would be in the exact spot I has left him, just waiting on my return.

When I came to Mannford was also when I met my first best-friend, Aubree. Aubree and I were inseparable. We would play in mud puddles for hours on end, we rode horses together, and we caught tadpoles together. I was there the first time Aubree got kicked by a horse, and she was there the first time I was bit by a horse. We would race my horse against her pony and we would always argue over who had won the race.

I about second grade my younger brother started playing flag football for the Mannford Pirates. Two weeks into his practices I started playing too and became their quarter back. We weren’t very good, not as good as the Raiders anyway, the Salvation Army and Mannford’s number one team, but we tried very hard. So when most of our players switched coaches and team names in my fifth grade year, our determination paid off and we won first place in our class.

My mentors throughout my childhood were my grandma Cozetta, my Mom, and Elmo. My grandma Cozetta is the kind of grandma that tries her hardest to pump you full of the most unhealthy food known to mankind the minute you walk through the door. She would always take my brother and me to pool every day of the summer that we were at her house when we were little. My grandma Cozetta was the first person to teach me how to use a cash register; she would go through her convenience store like she was a customer and come to the counter to pay. She even taught me how to watch for “those sneaky people” who would hide their things in front of the register so the cashier couldn’t see it. My mom influenced me throughout my childhood through her love of animals. Mom could never do an animal any harm. Our animals were always the fattest, and when people would come over and say, “ Oh that’s a pretty horse, she’s a chunk though, isn’t she.” Mom would just say, “No, she’s just spoiled.”

Other influences or mentors from my childhood would have to be any of my elementary school teachers. Mrs. Gorney, my kindergarten teacher, was almost always in a good mood and was always patient with us five-year-olds. Mrs. Bowen, my first grade teacher, stern, but always kind and helpful and made you want to do better at everything. Mrs. Pallodino, my second grade teacher, made everything fun. Mr. Dorsey, my third grade teacher, was…a character. He always made everybody laugh. Mrs. Muirhead, my fourth grade teacher, let our class do a lot of hands-on projects like collecting spores from mushrooms, adopting a bat, and making homemade ice cream. Finally, my fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Whitenberg, who made me cry because I made a C in English, made me sit next to her desk all year long, and made me want to pass her class with an A just to prove her wrong.


Today I have learned that life is more than just playing flag football, riding my horse up to the house after school, and playing in tadpole ponds. Life is about everything you do and the people around you. Life is working hard to get what you want and where you want to be and then working a little bit harder to get or go somewhere better.

Today I have learned a lot about love too. Love is what holds the world together. Some people look at the world and see a big mess of “people, who just don’t care anymore,” but if you think about it, if people didn’t care anymore what would the world have done the day the World Trade Center was leveled by terrorists. The world would have gone on like nothing had happened. American flags would not have sold out at every sore in the country, mass aide would not have been given to New York City, and we would have been the same as we were September 10, 001. Love holds the nation and the world together in times like those.

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